


It's Been A While But I Still Feel The Same

by colinmorgaan



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: AU that sort of follows the real timeline, Alternate Universe, Friendship loss, Heartbreak, I'll add to this as the story goes on, M/M, Sexuality denial/sexuality acceptance, closeting, larry stylinson - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-25
Updated: 2015-06-25
Packaged: 2018-04-06 01:38:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4203057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/colinmorgaan/pseuds/colinmorgaan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>"This is not to tell you that I love you, but if given the chance, oh I would love you."</em>
</p><p>Louis moves out; Harry moves on.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's Been A While But I Still Feel The Same

**Author's Note:**

> This is just the beginning. I'll update. The chapter titles are just songs that I feel go well the chapter.
> 
> If you know anything about my style of writing, you know that I like to jump right in.

It'd been a short talk. One about mid-way through their Up All Night Tour, a week long break that was three days in. A short decision, really, one that Harry didn't have a say in. A quick discussion about Louis moving out, the reasoning like a burning dagger slashing through Harry's chest.

_"I'm fed up," Louis had said. "With the gay rumours."_

Except it hadn't been rumours for Harry. He'd come to terms with who he was a few years back and he was okay with it except - it was that bad, then.

The thought of them being together like Harry wants, fighting through it all together, wrapped around each other like a rope and a anchor; it was that bad.

Fed up with Harry, really, because shortly after Harry's plea of _"We can chill out then, yeah?"_ it was

_"I'm moving out, Harry. After tour, I'll stay with Liam on breaks until then."_

Harry had nodded, earlier this morning.

Four days.

That's all he has is four days.

He hasn't been able to say I love you for the past two years. He doesn't know how he's going to do it in four days.

 

Two days pass by rather quickly. Louis packs a lot of his little toys and niknaks up in boxes, taking the ones he absolutely has to have and leaving the rest.

He swapped his dirty tour clothes for new ones. When Harry walked past the laundry room three hours ago and saw Louis loading his dirty clothes into the washer his heart leapt to his throat because, "I've got to learn how to do this Harry, I won't have you around anymore."

That stood for nothing except a reminder to Harry that he wouldn't have Louis around either.

 

More clothes get packed into Louis' bag than usual on the third day and Harry knows it's because he doesn't plan on coming back on their next break.

Actually, he doesn't plan on coming back ever and Harry's has thirty seven hours to make him stay.

 

The sun still comes up on the fourth day even though Harry doesn't get up himself. The sunrise has always been one of Harry's favorite things but today it only reminds of him how Louis walked in his room, shining too bright to notice the clouds in Harry's eyes.

"Harry, time to get up. Today's my last day here and I thought you could help me pack up the last of my things." Louis says gently.

"Okay," Harry replies brokenly because Louis' things aren't the only thing he's taking with him.

Harry stands up from his bed, pulls on a pair of sweats over his pants and walks right past Louis across the hall into his room.

Louis shakes his head slightly, but pretends not to notice. The day is passing by quickly already and he needs to get these things done.

"So I was kind of hoping you could roll my bed sheets up and tie a ribbon around them?" Louis asks. "They're easier for me to move around that way and you've always been better at that." 

"Yeah," Harry nods lightly. "Do you want me to show you how to do it?"

"Nah," Louis brushes off. "Liam's got a spare room already made up, so I won't be having to do this again." Harry's breath gets caught in his throat and he feels his chest caving in. _Louis doesn't plan on coming back._ He doesn't reply with anything.

Louis' sheets are a mess like always as Harry strips them off the bed and folds them in half vertically. He lays it down on the bed, folds one end in and rolls until there's no more length. He can't find a ribbon so he grabs one of Louis' extra shoe laces and ties it around the material.

"Anything else?" Harry asks unsteadily. 

"Yep," Louis replies easily and then looks up to meet Harry's eyes. He's expecting a fake aggravated look, Harry knows he is. When he doesn't get one he drops his head back down. "There's some things on the top shelf of my closet that I can't reach. A box and some t-shirts. A pair of shoes."

Without saying anything Harry turns around and opens Louis' closet door. It's so fucking empty and Harry feels like he is looking into a mirror.

He reaches up for the t-shirts, tugging them down and placing them in the box nearest him after folding them neatly. One of them is a plain black t-shirt Louis used to wear to bed and the other is one is his shirt that he drenched in whiskey on New Year's Eve and refused to throw away even after Harry couldn't get the stain out.

On top of the shirts was a pair of shoes that had come tumbling down when Harry tugged the clothes down. They were what had been white slip on shoes, worn down and ripped at the seams. They were the first pair of shoes Harry had seen Louis wear aside from his Toms. He had worn them everyday for a year and half, no matter the weather or season. These shoes had seen everything.

He sets them on top of the t-shirts and then reaches back up to find a box - a shoebox to be exact. A brown, ripped and worn shoe box with _'memories'_ written on in it in what looked like Louis' mum's handwriting.

"What's this?" Harry asks without thinking.

"What's it say?" Louis says a bit obviously.

"Memories."

"Have a look if you want." Is all Louis replies with.

Harry opens the box gently, careful not to rip the edges more. In it is a small pile of random things. A Spider-Man action figure, a small heart shaped card, a membership card to some little shop Harry's never heard of and just about everything in between are in it.

"Why do you have all this stuff?" Harry asks, confused.

"It's my memories. Starting from when I was about four or five." Louis explains.

"But why all this?"

"Well... the Spider-Man action figure - man, I carried that thing everywhere with me." He laughs a bit. "My mum used to tell me he would protect me from all things bad. And the card is a Valentines Day card from my very first crush." He explains. "Tia, was her name but everyone used to call her Buck Tooth Tia 'cus she had these two humongous front teeth. Looking back on it now, I think that crush might've been out of pity."

Louis moves over to the bed and sits down, facing where Harry is sat across the floor. "And the membership card was my first ever ID. I was about fourteen and didn't quite understand that it was just a membership card to my mum's favorite flower shop and I couldn't get into clubs with it." He laughs a little and then clears his throat. "Keep digging."

Harry does and really he expects to find something embarrassing like maybe a love note to that girl Tia or a buttplug that Louis had thought was something entirely else when he bought it. What he doesn't expect to find is a photo of himself and Louis. The first photo of them ever taken.

"What's this?"

"Oh that?" Louis says. "That's my best friend and me. He's sort of a superstar now but that was back in the simpler days. I'm his biggest fan, you know." Louis cracks a smile.

Harry doesn't though because he doesn't understand why Louis would have that here, in his most sacred things. He doesn't understand why Louis would put it there when the bond between them was apparently never that strong. "This can't be that important to you."

"Of course it is, H-"

"No," Harry says sternly, on the verge of crying. "This can't be that important to you."

"And why not?" Louis says softly.

"Because," Harry's voice cracks with emotion. "Because I'm not that important to you."

"What the hell are you talking about, Harry?"

"Oh drop it, Louis!" Harry yells, eyes flooding with tears. "Don't act like I was ever more to you than a just a soft bed to lie down on. Not when you're packing up your things like this. Not when you're leaving."

"Is that what this is about? You don't think I care about you?" Louis raises his voice back. "Because I do, more than anything in this world I do! I'm not leaving you Harry, I'm leaving the flat." 

"That's just it, isn't it? This was never _just_ a flat for me. It was home." Harry sobs. "Except it wasn't the fucking building, it was you! You were home! How am I supposed to believe you care about me when you're too blind to see that? You were it for me!"

Louis furrows his eyebrows and tries to think. "Harry I -"

"No you don't get it, do you?" Harry's voice falters because he's not strong enough to do this. He doesn't have the courage, but he has to. "I love you! I'm in love with you. I thought you were the one because I couldn't imagine finding anyone else. You are everything to me!" He confesses, his knees weak and his mind racing. "But it's all gone to shit now, because it was _that_ bad. The thought of us being together was bad enough to make you leave." Harry voice is low. "I'm sorry I was never good en-"

"Harry, I love you!" Louis says suddenly, and when Harry looks up at him, his eyes are wide with disbelief, like he didn't mean to say what he just said. He fumbles for his words. "But not like that. I'm sorry if I made you think otherwise, but it was never like that for me." Louis shakes. "But I don't want to lose you, please."

Harry's crying has stopped. He still has the photo in his hand when Louis says, "Say something. Please."

His brain forgets how to say _'You broke my fucking heart, I hate you.'_ so he lifts his shaky hands, grasps the photo between them both and tears right down the middle. Releasing the two scraps, he runs out of the room and into his own, slamming and locking the door.

He doesn't come back out. Louis doesn't say goodbye.

 

When Harry wakes up at six a.m. the next morning for his flight he unplugs everything in the house and shuts all the doors. But before he can shut Louis' door he notices a small paper on the bed. He slowly walks over to it.

It's a photo of Louis - his half of the first photo. He turns it over and reads _'I'm sorry'_ in shaky handwriting.

In that moment, Harry didn't feel like the only thing that wasn't enough.

Harry flips open the first blank page in his journal and writes, _'You can not make homes out of human beings. Let him leave if he wants to leave.'_

He gently tucks the photo into the page and does.


End file.
